The humble journals, musings and explorations of the most endlessly intrigued person alive.
Staring the honest and modest David 'Pinky-Von-Sox' Tieck

Monday, November 2, 2015

If you ask me he'll achieve it too

Harry had always wanted to deregulate the beautician industry.

He wasn't sure why.

But he was sure why he wasn't sure why, because:

- he wasn't a beautician

- he didn't work in the beautician industry

- he didn't know any beauticians

- he wasn't interested in meeting any beauticians

- he wasn't interested in learning about what beauticians do

- he thought the word 'beautician' sounded harsh and unpleasant

- like clinical and possibly even medical

- if it was medical he didn't want to get what ever disease you'd have to get to require getting beauticianed

- and how would they even inform you that you needed it?

- 'we've looked at your test results, do you have a will?'

- that just sounds horrible

- and he found horrible sounding things unpleasant

- and feeling unpleasant fed into his bitter distaste of the apple picking 'for fun' movement.

- because it often involved whistling, humming, and other mouth noises occasionally associated with enjoyment

- which reminded him of the fact that as a small boy his father was whistling when he chopped down the tree that he had once coveted building a tree house in

- and in that tree house he was planning on one day cutting open the dead baby hawk that he had found behind the school playground

- and was keeping fresh in the home freezer in a tuppaware labeled 'moms casserole'

- something no one wanted to eat

- because mom had run off with the paperboy seventeen years earlier

- so this would have to be REALLY old casserole

- plus it wasn't in there for the first sixteen years she was gone

- so it might even be a tad moldy

- plus the paper boy still delivered the paper with a daily wad of spit on the main headline

- he was the one who stole a married women, why was he pissed off?

- and so now because of these fucking beauticians Harry didn't acquire tree house building skills, doesn't know what the inside of a baby hawk looks like, and associates even the happiest of news headlines with phlegm

- which is another word he finds harsh and unpleasant

- because it was a throat full of phlegm that kept him from picking apples for fun that one time

- meaning he had to get paid for it instead

- a job he's now held for twelve years and finds mildly unpleasant in stormy weather

No comments:

Post a Comment

What smell should I invent next?

About Me

Hi I'm David Tieck, an author/comedian/artist from Sydney, Australia. This is my blog. I use it as an outlet for my peculiar mind. Come on in and feel free to add to the lovely absurdity in anyway that you are so inspired.